Artist Spotlight – Scurvy Drunkard (Pt 2)

I remain ever impressed by this gal’s work, especially this time around. S.D. continues to produce excellently creative projects which explore the dark side of psychology, decay, madness, and fear. I just…love her! She has just published a photo series called Beautiful Corpses. Make sure to click on the images below to enlarge and take in all the details. I love the color choices and the contrasts. Follow her Instagram @scurvydrunkard

Beautiful Corpses

The obsession
with possession-
the utmost pointless pursuit.
The compulsive urge to preserve
these THINGS which can be seen
felt, or heard.
A washboard must be attained
Guzzling eggs, a dozen a day.
Perhaps a home to die in,
if you can find a way to pay.
Everything, in excess.
Perhaps some-body to display.
The borrowed land you call your own
will also waste away.
You have cried from the hunger
since the day you were born.
Reduced yourself to but a number
insatiably seeking to adorn
the skin you’re living in
always seeking outward things
when one could truly make their mark
if only one would look within.
If only one would look within.
All material traces, forgot
Blood oaths will clot
And the flesh will rot
The flesh will rot.


A Pound of Flesh

/u/xspikeshadowsx shared this post on the Satanism subreddit the other day. I can’t even imagine the pain or the dedication it would take to withstand scarification like this.

Credit /u/xspikeshadowsx. Used with permission.

“First they traced the outline with a scalpel, then lifted and cut the skin on the inside of the design, and finally scraped some flesh out to make sure it was even over the whole symbol to promote a nice smooth healing process and clear end result.”

“I wanted the symbol to be as brutal as possible, not only from a design and aestethic point of view, but also the process, what’s more brutal then scar tissue and mutilation, right?

Commitment to the process wasn’t really much of an issue, once I set my mind on something not a lot is going to stop me, and I think that level of determination helped while the procedure was under way. There was no pain relief in any way shape or form, I wanted to earn this symbol, but even saying that, it was one of the most painful experiences of my life.”

Robert the Doll

Robert is a world famous, mysterious and mischievous entity that dwells inside this 115 year old doll in Key West, Florida. Over the years he has been blamed for many misfortunes: divorces, injuries and even an outbreak of the Yellow Fever. He is even allegedly the original inspiration for Chucky from Child’s Play. You have to ask his permission before taking a picture, or he will seriously mess your life up. Letters are received all the time apologizing to Robert for this faux pas, often lamenting the misfortunes that came as a result of their rudeness.

The history of Robert and his original owner Robert Eugene Otto is lengthy and very mysterious. Recently Amazon dedicated a special episode of Lore to Robert and his first family. According to modern legends, Robert sometimes moves from place to place. He can cause all kinds of mayhem. People who visit him today who make flippant remarks often regret it in the end.

I have wanted to meet Robert ever since my first time in Key West when I was 13. When we finally did meet this year, I was just as excited then as I was 20 years ago. I was elated when we laid eyes on each other, and I told him all about the first time I learned about him and what a fan I was. He gave me really friendly vibes as I very politely asked his permission to make this post. For a while afterwards I was stuck in a sort of obsessive day dream about being friends with him. There is definitely spiritual power inside that doll! You can learn more about him at his own website.
Thanks again Robert!

Artist Spotlight – Scurvy Drunkard

Shyarn Koenitz, aka Scurvy Drunkard, is an up-and-coming multimedia artist based in Australia. She first attracted my attention with the paintings she makes with her own blood. Everything she produces is deeply disturbing, and I absolutely love it! Her work touches on themes of fear, body horror, consumption, magic, Eros, and so much else. Who knows what twisted and depraved ideas will come pouring out of her mind at any moment?! See more on her Instagram.

Some of my favorite work of hers, featured below.


A Vision of Satan, A Night of Magic

Sunday, November 11th MMXVIII. Waxing Moon in Capricorn.

Our group has a powerful tradition of nocturnal witchcraft. When we determine the times and seasons are correct, we go out hiking deep into the wilderness where we have free reign to wander the woods under the cover of darkness. This is a mixed group of experienced psychonaut-witches and others new to our craft. This night was S’s initiation into our Mystery. After hiking a few hours, we arrived at our gathering place: a small clearing at the foot of a dense cypress dome. By sunset, our camp was set up, the sacred fire lit, and the tall pines stood watch as they were beautifully silhouetted against the twilight sky. As the slender crescent moon loomed low over the horizon, it was time again to take the mushroom potion I had so diligently prepared months ago.
We each bring our own different intentions to the rites. Some were there for guidance, others for healing or communicating with nature. My specific intention was to grow in magical knowledge and personal power. The group dynamic was just right, so I felt brave enough to take a very large dose. As we sat around the fire waiting for the arrival of the Mushroom Spirit, that old familiar indelible sensation of a subtle unveiling passed over us, wave after wave after wave. By the time we were each in a fully altered state, a strong wind passed us and we came to attention. Almost in unison we rose to walk. As we traveled silently in the darkness, the world became new again. Our sense of separation from nature was replaced by profound harmony. We slowly and carefully crossed a patch of swampland and into a scrub field. By this point, we had all been babbling to each other in endless streams of consciousness, roaring with raucous laughter and profound joy. When I peered through the darkness towards T and C (the other two experienced witches), we had been visibly transformed. T with his wavy golden locks, and wearing a cloak of stars became to me like the god Apollo! C with her bright blue hair and wearing a cape with a dark, colorful mandala, became like Gaia. I looked at myself and had become like Hades.
We decided to lay down and rest together a moment (the Mushroom always creates an alternating need to move and then to stop moving). I told the group it was time to be silent and listen to the world. The sudden quiet covered us like a blanket. After a moment (or maybe an hour? Time was becoming so difficult!), I went up to “Apollo” and asked him to walk with me alone. A short distance later we were shocked and surprised to find a crossroads in our path. This was the sign I needed! In many western traditions, a lonely crossroads is a particularly powerful place, and one especially where Satan is known to present himself.
Remembering my original intentions, I asked “Apollo” to guard my body. I did not know what I should do. By this point I was at the peak of altered consciousness. I stood at the edge of the crossroads and whispered into the darkness ahead of me, “Please, show me what to do.” Again the wind picked up and seemed this time to carry on it the whisper of a voice. I sensed the presence of a mighty and dread spirit. “Satan,” I said, “Here am I. If you would grant me the fantastic powers I’ve heard about, which you are known by men to offer those of us who call on you, I would freely give you whatever price you would ask of me!”
Then by an impulse I dropped to my knees, my arms spread out and my eyes looked up to the vast cosmos. Suddenly the sky itself rippled open into a terrible vortex! It was a swirling kaleidoscopic tunnel reaching into infinity from some other dimension. Fangs, bones, flames of Hellfire, glowing texts in an unknown language that revealed secrets unfathomable, hideous demonic faces with burning eyes staring through me, all rotating and ever changing before my dumbfounded self. I felt waves of new power crashing down on me, penetrating deep into my bones! My chest heavy with this power, I felt like I could become anything, do anything! A burning orange light rose out of me like a red-hot ball of iron. I knew this was my soul ascending towards the vortex. Out of the whirlwind appeared a terrible black claw with a singular reptilian eye. It was slowly coming down to snatch up my soul like the prize in an arcade claw machine. Then to my complete disappointment, the trance was broken with the sound of my name, which clashed and roared like thunder! “Gaia” appeared behind me, radiantly, standing next to our Apollo, to intervene and save my soul from being taken away.
The empty silence of the woods surrounded me again, and the vortex was gone, leaving only the countless stars sparkling down on us. I was equally grateful for their concern as I was desperate to go back into that trance. I appreciate my friends’ intervention, I know they meant well. But who knows what could have become of me had I not been interrupted.  Twenty-four hours later I can still feel that power dwelling in me, so perhaps something was given to me after all?
The night continued, the trip was the most visually intense experience I have ever had. We eventually returned to our camp to rest by the fire, but the visions just would not stop. The group’s mad ravings and fits of laughter and wailing continued through the whole night. Ever restless, we broke into smaller groups here and there to explore the more familiar parts of our woods, rapidly exchanging our disjointed thoughts, sharing our visionary experiences, and gazing out at constellations and wishing on shooting stars. Sleep would not come to us till just before the dawn.
Was my encounter with Satan real? On a psychological level I may rationalize the experience in terms of brain chemistry and the power of suggestion. But on a spiritual level, I know my soul was touched that night, and had that infernal transaction been completed, I can’t say what would have happened to me. The experiences that night were real enough that we will be forever changed.

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Murdering Toads to Make Wizard Dust

13th century alchemist Michael Scot in his work Liber luminis luminum, gives us a recipe for a “miraculous powder” which when used “can bring wisdom, joy and all manner of blessings from God above.” The only catch? You have to get a family of toads drunk and high, then burn them to a crisp!

Take ten poisonous toads, and let them be live, and put them in in a special vessel that they can’t escape from. Later take fresh asphodel [or daffodil] and white hellebore in good measure, extract as much of their juice as you can, put the juice in the vessel with the toads and let them drink it for nine days.

Then stick the toads into a clay pot, and place it into an oven so that the animals are burnt to ashes with sufficient heat. And thence remove them and carefully grind them up. And when that work is done, take Salt of Wisdom (alembroth), alkali, and just as much ammoniac. And then carefully grind ,mixing it with the (sap?) [lit. “urine”] of a yew tree. And dry it and grind it again. Do that nine times and you’ll make a miraculous powder.

Decem bufones tenentes venenum et fiant vive et ponantur in aliquo vase unde non valeant exire. Postea accipe anfodillos recentes et eleborum album in bona quantitate extrahe inde succum cum eis quantum pones, pone succum in vase illo in quo sunt rane et dimitte eas bibere per ix dies. Tunc accipe eas et pone in olla rudi et luta eam luto sapientie et pone ipsam in furno ita ut animalia comburantur combustione sufficienti et extrahe inde ea et tere diligenter et cum opus fuerit de illo pulvere accipe 3 – 1 de sale alebrot,3 – 1 de sale alkali, 3 – 5 de sale armoniaco tantundem et teras diligenter permiscendo cum ea urinam tassi et iterum exsicca et tere et hoc nonies fiat et de illo pulvere poteris facere mirabilia.

Witch feeding a cat with toads, 1630’s woodcut

Whether God will bless you if you try this, I can’t say. But I’m sure mixing 5-HO DMT with other alkaloids, along with ammonia and other things from under the kitchen sink that you’re not supposed to mix together, is going to definitely make you feel special, perhaps permanently. DO NOT TRY.

Bibliography

Brown, Rev. James Wood. (1897). An enquiry into the life and legend of Michael Scot. Retrieved from https://archive.org/details/enquiryintolifel00browrich

Hatsis, T. (2015). Witches ointment – the secret history of psychedelic magic. Inner Traditions Bear And Comp.